100km (52km for me) – Dinder camp to desert camp. My family know that I have the “slight” tendency to go a thousand miles per minute until my body ultimately crashes. Out here is no exception. After a seven day continual battle with stomach issues, capped by an absolutely sleepless night last night, I greeted the morning with zero energy. I talked to Claire, the medic, and she prescribed Citpro – a miracle antibiotic – a last resort for me to take drugs, but I was desperate.
Despite her and Mathias, the other medic, advice, I decided that riding in the morning to lunch would be more fun than hitching a ride in the truck. 6km out of camp, I was regretting that decision, but I was determined. My speed fluctuated between a painfully slow 15km/hr and an even more painful 9km/hr. My view was the undulating and corrugated tin- like dirt/sand along the side of what used to be a railroad track. Now, the wood ties and metal have been stripped for other use and the rail is in a twisted state.
After 5 hours and a final 5km of goat/sheep herding along the railroad track, the lunch truck appeared. I was so thankful to see it and so appreciative of the clapping supporters and those final riders (Sally, Robby, Ruth, Ripka Ram, Matt, Christine, Linda) who kept tabs on me all morning to see if I had water or medicine. I climbed into the lunch truck and fell into a half sleep for the 3 hour/48km journey to camp with a wet rag on my face and Jan holding Robby’s portable fan directly on me (temps were 44C in the truck).
The terrain changed incredibly in those 48km with small hills replacing the endless fields of grain. We are camped in a dirt field next to a small village. All the kids came out to play a game of futbol and the adults brought a water buffalo towed by a donkey for sun showers.
So, EFI is gone, but my health and enjoying this entire experience are more important.